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The water slapped against the reefs on the shore of Mt. Pyre, making a dull sound.
The thick fog did not disperse; instead, it grew even denser, cutting the surrounding scenery into fragmented, grayish-white blocks.
Lapras's massive body broke the water's surface, steadily pulling up to the shallows.
Coarse gravel rubbed against the shell of Lapras's belly, making a rustling sound.
This place was firmly labeled as a 'no-go' zone for the living.
Masaki and Tome rolled up their sleeves, supporting the girl named Yale from both sides.
The bandages on the girl's leg were already soaked with blood, and the dark red area had expanded significantly in the cold wind.
The two moved very gently, fearing they would aggravate the wound, as they moved her step by step from Lapras's broad back shell to the ground.
A few sets of deep and shallow footprints were left in the muddy shallows.
Steven followed behind, several glass vials already in his hands. The medicinal liquid sloshed inside the bottles, reflecting faint light.
"Take these,"
Steven handed the vials to the male Trainer, his tone sincere.
"These are specially made Potions; they work wonders on lacerations. The road ahead won't be easy for you, so take them for protection."
The male Trainer carried Yale on his back, his legs slightly bent, his hands firmly supporting the girl's thighs.
He glanced at the vials in Steven's hand, his Adam's apple bobbing as he took half a step back.
"There's really no need, but I appreciate the sentiment."
The man shook his head, speaking quickly.
"We've already caused you all a massive amount of trouble. Our camp is just a short distance ahead, and our companions are there to meet us. They have a high-level Blissey, so Yale will receive full treatment once we get there."
After finishing, the man bowed repeatedly to Steven and the others.
The bows were deep, and Yale, on his back, let out a muffled groan from the jostling.
Without lingering, the man carried her away, followed by their other companion. The three plunged into the thick mist of Mt. Pyre.
The grayish-white curtain of fog soon swallowed their silhouettes, leaving only the sound of messy footsteps treading on fallen leaves, fading into the distance.
As the distance grew, a few snippets of low-voiced conversation drifted from deep within the thick fog.
"Why do I feel like someone was touching my butt just now?"
This was the voice of the companion, tinged with a nervous tremor.
"Brother, shut up. This place is creepy; don't scare yourself."
The man's voice sounded a bit out of breath.
"Alright, alright, let's hurry and meet up. If Yale's leg is delayed any longer, it'll be ruined."
The voices were completely swallowed by the moisture and thick fog.
Ariel stood where he was, hands in his pockets, his gaze fixed on the direction where the three had disappeared.
The patch of trampled dry grass was slowly springing back.
Steven withdrew his gaze and let out a long breath. He patted the dust off his hands and stood up straight.
"To be able to support each other and never give up in this kind of environment."
Steven looked at Masaki and Tome, his tone carrying a hint of emotion.
"This team has deep bonds. We can consider ourselves to have done a good deed today."
Masaki nodded repeatedly in agreement.
"Yeah, Yale was so badly injured, yet they never thought of abandoning her. If it were an ordinary temporary team, they would have disbanded long ago."
Tome also sighed.
"I hope they can find their companions safely."
The three were immersed in the moral satisfaction of lending a helping hand.
Even the cold wind of Mt. Pyre couldn't chill the warmth in their hearts.
Ariel turned his head and let out a short laugh.
He didn't make a sound, but his shoulders shook slightly.
Steven turned, asking in confusion.
"Brother Ariel, what are you laughing at?"
"Nothing."
Ariel composed his expression, his tone calm.
"I just feel that this team is indeed quite... heartwarming."
Ariel emphasized the word 'heartwarming'.
Steven didn't catch the underlying meaning, assuming Ariel was agreeing with him. He smiled and straightened the hem of his coat.
Steven habitually reached for the right pocket of his coat.
His movement froze.
He froze for a second, then pressed his palm firmly against the outside of the pocket twice.
Flat!
Steven looked down, turning the lining of his coat pocket inside out. Empty.
"Eh?"
Steven uttered a single syllable of confusion, and immediately after, his hands began to frantically search through every pocket on his body.
Jacket, pants, inner pockets.
His movements became faster and faster, his breathing rhythm completely disrupted.
A few strands of his normally meticulously groomed hair fell loose, blocking his vision.
"What's wrong?"
Masaki saw that something was wrong.
"My collection bag... is gone."
Steven's voice changed pitch, cracking at the end.
The bag wasn't large, made of gray velvet and luxuriously decorated.
Inside were rare stones he had collected from traveling all over the world, climbing countless snow-capped mountains and volcanoes.
Fragments of Sun Stone with star spots dug from the depths of Dewford Town, hexagonal crystals specialized to the Sinnoh region, and a raw ore he had spent three months polishing.
He could name every single stone and remember the coordinates and weather when he found them.
That was his lifeblood, more important than his own life.
Steven spun in place, his eyes glued to the ground where he had just stood, even crouching down to rummage through the pile of gravel.
He didn't even notice when his fingers were cut by the sharp reefs.
"Did you see a gray velvet bag?"
Steven looked up, his forehead covered in sweat, his eyes turning red.
Masaki and Tome looked at each other and shook their heads in unison.
Masaki pinched his chin, recalling the scene just now, and clapped his hands.
"Mr. Steven, could your bag have been stolen by those people just now?"
"Impossible!"
Steven denied it immediately, waving his hands in anxiety.
"They were victims of a Pokémon attack. Yale was so badly injured; in that situation, who would have the mind to steal anything? I must have dropped it somewhere!"
Steven refused to accept that premise.
He had just completed a noble act of rescue; how could he be backstabbed by the ones he rescued the moment he turned around?
It didn't fit the aristocratic education and chivalrous spirit he had received since childhood.
Tome stood to the side, biting her lip as she recalled.
"I used to follow a former Gym Leader for training, and I heard him mention some wilderness slang and tricks. Some veteran Trainers specifically disguise themselves as victims of wild Pokémon attacks to gain the sympathy of passing Newcomers, then steal things while others are helping. This is called a 'Bleeding Swallow'."
Hearing the words 'Bleeding Swallow', Steven's movements to rummage through the stones stopped.
He crouched on the ground, scenes from just now flashing through his mind.
The lonely boat in the thick fog, the chaotic physical contact while moving the injured, and the crowding on Lapras's back.
All the details linked together, forming a complete logical chain.
Steven slowly stood up, feeling completely unwell.
His worldview had suffered an unprecedented shock.
The judgment of character he took pride in, and the kindness he took pride in, had become a giant joke at this moment.
"Could it be... I really was robbed?"
Steven muttered to himself, his voice airy.
"When did they do it? On Lapras's back? Or when we went ashore?"
He turned his head to look at Ariel, who had been standing by the side, silent from beginning to end.
Ariel still maintained his posture with hands in his pockets, watching this farce with cold eyes.
The mist of Mt. Pyre swirled around him but couldn't touch the hem of his clothes.
"Brother Ariel..."
Steven swallowed hard, speaking as if for help.
"Tell me, was I robbed?"